"Facing the Fear"

Continued from my previous post: "The Journey Home"

When my thoughts would wander back to that small town in Pictou County, a myriad of images would flood my mind.

Having left my childhood friends at the age of 10 to move to this foreign place called New Glasgow, I went from being popular and 'the life of the party', to being the new girl and an outsider.

I was teased and tormented mercilessly over any one of a number of perceived imperfections. Everything from looks, to clothes to wearing a bra were issues to be publicly and privately pointed out and made fun of. Adding to that, the fact that Pictou County in 1979 was rampant with racism and the fact that my younger brother & older sister had a knack for getting into fights, (for which I was constantly coming to their aid...or simply being thrashed for being a Patey); school became an absolute torture to attend.

If it wasn't fights to be avoided, it was being cornered by groups of adolescent boys who's hormones were way out of whack and seemed to think my existence and physical maturing was for their toying.

I have to laugh, looking back at one boy.

As I left school one day, I came across my brother being beaten up by a boy from my class...a full 3 years older. I had to help my baby brother and got involved. It wasn't long before the fight between the boy and my brother turned into a fight between me and a different boy all together, who was also from my class.

What boggled the mind of that then 12 year old girl was the fact that the very next day, this boy got up from his desk, walked over to mine and kissed me in front of the whole class.

I laugh at the immaturity of that boy and his hormones now, but I won't say I understand this male species a whole lot more than that young and very confused girl did.

School was painful but home was a different sort of torture.

Our family was full of secrets because we had been taught early and thoroughly that "blood was thicker than water".

We learned to maintain and protect at all costs the facade of perfection.

Nothing was wrong....nothing ever would be.

Maybe we thought if we protected that image long and hard enough, it would become a reality.

More than likely, shame and fear kept that mask in place.

While the whole world looked at us as something to admire, as a pillar in the church and community...there were abuses of every kind taking place behind closed doors.

Those abuses, some of which were secrets kept from all other members of this household, coupled with the pain of school, led me to become a very withdrawn and self protective young girl.

If I kept you at arm's length, you could not hurt me...who I was inside and who I was outside became very separate and almost completely disconnected.

Therefore, even if you happened to hurt my body, you could not really hurt me because I would never let you find the real me.

Burying who I really was became a coping mechanism, the mask of perfection became so much a part of me that even I could no longer separate the mask from reality.

I learned to keep my head down, my mouth shut, my emotions completely in check and a smile painted on my face.

I loathed who I was and assumed everyone else did too so I slowly but surely took on a level of perfectionism. Perfecting my surroundings and my perceived short comings brought a level of control in a world which afforded me very little control.

The stress of maintaining this unblemished exterior, the self hatred and the shame began to manifest in my prayers and fantasies.

Initially, I would think about any number of a multitude of accidents that would bring me harm but would free me from the prison within. Not long after, I began to pray nightly....for years, that I would be taken to Heaven in my sleep. As a young girl, I saw no escape, no way out...death would be a welcome reprieve.

By the age of 14, the pressure of it all became more than I could bare and my world was threatening to unravel completely. The secret had become larger than life and was no longer something I could control and push aside. The pressure was becoming so great that I could literally feel myself beginning to snap. I was being crushed under it's weight.

I could keep the secrets to myself no longer but even in the telling there was a need to preserve the family unit and to protect others more than myself. I selected my confidants with great care and my only goal was to relieve the pressure...yet keep the air of perfection firmly in place.

My sense of loyalty had become so warped that when the person to whom I first confided reacted in anger and an absolute, consuming need to protect me; I in turn became furious toward this confidant who simply wanted to help me.

It took me decades but I have since come to understand that this knight's initial reaction was one of only a very few truly appropriate reactions to date.

The circumstances that were causing me the greatest pressure and turmoil did come to an end and life returned to normal in every other aspect...the facade was firmly established and had barely been disturbed. At the time, that is exactly what I wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was the New Glasgow I knew, these were the images that kept a firm grip on my heart and mind for two full decades after I left that place one last time.

I never looked back nor had any desire to.

The people and events of that chapter of my life were pushed to the very back corners of my mind, some forgotten...seemingly forever.

As time moved on and the years flew by, God brought much healing and blessing into my life. I began to let my guard down little by little. I learned to first trust my Heavenly Father who had preserved me through all of it and eventually to trust others. It took a lot of years to come to a place where I was willing to let a select few catch a glimpse of who was behind the mask and many more to learn to set the masks aside.

As mentioned in my previous post, I am now at a place in my life where I believe transparency is of tremendous value to myself and to others around me.

If I were to be completely truthful, (and really, what would be the point of holding back at this point?), I get quite a kick out of seeing the reactions when I say or do something that does not fit with the contrived image of the girl who wore the masks.

I've even been known to say or do some things purely for their shock value.

Maybe in another decade or two, I won't find this such an enjoyable pass time!

Though my life had become full and happy, there was a deeper healing to take place and greater chains to be broken.

When I joined Face book, I was not looking for anything deeper than a venue to stay connected to my firstborn child...but I see now that God had other plans.

As the friends of my youth became friends of my present and my heart was knit together with a few in particular, the need to go back...to go home, became glaringly apparent.

I hadn't thought of New Glasgow as home in the 22 years I'd been gone...until my friend, (who was very much a big brother image to me), made the statement in passing...

"we'll get you home kid".

He has no idea the impact those five little words had on me.

The plans to "go home" became more and more solidified until about three weeks before I was due to leave.

I'd had a conversation with one friend, that led to a conversation with another friend which stirred up the paralyzing fear that had held me captive for so very many years.

One thing I'd had to deal very little with concerning my years in New Glasgow, was nightmares but that night a dream so real I could physically feel it, gripped my mind and heart in it's talons of fear.

I was instantly reverted to that helpless young girl of so many years ago and remained captive as such for a full day and 1/2.

My reasoning was gone, what I knew to be truth was gone, I was that frightened child and I was ready to bolt.

I knew I was in trouble and reached out to a friend from those Pictou County Days who had become like a sister to me.

I shared with her my absolute panic...she spoke words of truth to me.

I cried with the pent up emotion of that child from a life time before....she encouraged.

I argued all my fears and reasons for not making this trip and she prayed.

I could not reason or be reasoned with, but over a period of time I was able to calm down enough to know that if for no other reason, I had to make this trip to see my friend in person.

In fact, had it not been for the way our hearts had been knit together, I would have cancelled all plans of ever seeing that town again.

By the next day, the chain that bound me was broken. At the time, I thought it had only lost it's grip temporarily but I was relieved to be able to think straight and to be free from the panic for however long it might last.

I recruited a few more friends to be in prayer, as I knew the strength of that battle was an indicator of the freedom that I was meant to experience through this trip.

As one day led to another, the fear became increasingly displaced by the excitement and anticipation of the re connections and the fun that I knew were in store for me.

I began to dare to believe that the good would outweigh and ultimately redeem the pain and fear that was New Glasgow to me.

Always in the back of my mind though, was the question of how I would actually react once I was there...when I went to certain places, when I saw particular people. Would that strangle hold of panic take over once again?

The Journey Home...Part 1 "A History"

I really am not sure just how many of or how long these posts will be.

They, (like me) are a work in progress.

When my Heart is very, very full and God is orchestrating a detailed renovation in my heart/life, I process by writing. This Blog is my venue and though I am very aware that it is public and open for all to read; I am truly writing for me.

One of the reasons that I pour my heart out in a public blog is that I spent much of my life hiding behind masks. Masks of perfection, of aloofness and of all being well when all was anything but well.

Now, I value transparency, both in myself and in others. Blogging publicly is part of that journey in transparency

for me.

If you had asked me a very few months ago, "Jen, where is your home?" I would have answered that it is ultimately wherever my immediate family is. This is still true, but if you were to take it farther and ask me, "but where is the home from which you grew up?"; I would have paused a moment and then told you that I was born in Halifax NS. I would go on to say that I spent my teen and adolescent years in New Glasgow, NS....but would never once have referred to it as home.

Though I spent the greater part of my most formative years in that town...it was not home.

"Home" to me is a place of safety and security, of love and of happy memories.

New Glasgow, in my mind, held little of those; in fact, it held each of the respective opposites.

For me, it was a dark place full of pain, heart ache, abuse and trauma.

Though I remembered each of the traumatic events that occurred in that place with great accuracy I had learned to block out the pain.

I have learned an unwelcome truth in that....when you block out the pain and the emotion that goes with it, you end up blocking out all emotion and most feeling. You tend to become somewhat numb.

It is a survival technique that many of us use to cope. It works to get you through....unfortunately, it is rarely a switch to be turned on and off like a light. Once turned off, it is very difficult to even locate that switch, let alone to turn it back on.

Over the years, God has orchestrated much healing in me...and I don't mind saying so myself:

"I've come a long way Baby".

It's a life long journey for me and I have learned to be just fine with my imperfections and even gaping wounds...yet ever leaving my heart open to whatever the Lord wants to put His finger on next.

One of the things I get such a kick out of, is the oh so unique ways God will choose to bring another level of healing in my life.

For a number of years as friends and family were introduced to and came to love Face book, they would in turn invite me to join this world wide phenomenon. I was already a Blogger and knew my addictive tendencies, therefore one by one, I turned down the invitations.

That all changed a few short months ago as the realization hit me that one of the most important men in my life was soon heading out of province to University.

Having raised and worked in High Schools with teens for a number of years now, I knew that I would be sadly disappointed if I thought I would be receiving the number of phone calls that this Mother's heart would feel was adequate.

If I was to stay in touch with the daily goings ons of this child who made me a mother, I would have to do it by joining him in his world...Face book.

Little did I know as I began that journey with fear and trepidation, that it would lead to some of the most incredible connections and reconnections of my life.

One by one, friends from a time and place I had taken such care to leave behind, became endearing parts of my present.

Some caused me to remember long forgotten events with great laughter. Some reminded me of others I'd all but forgotten and some, I discovered were Kindred Spirits on a very deep heart level.

As the people from my youth in Pictou County became more and more dear to me, a revelation began to take hold.

Over the years I had learned to live without regrets, to understand that I am who I am today due to the full sum of all choices and events no matter how negative.

I would often say, there are many things I would never choose to relive, but I would, in the end still not change because they led me on a path that has led me to today.

Today, includes a family that I could not be more proud of and a level of peace and joy that I would not want to be without. So, if all of the chapters of my life have been written as a succession and result of the last....who would I be if I changed even one sentence of one chapter?

As much as I have embraced this philosophy of life for myself concerning the traumas, heart ache and hard decisions; there was a huge portion of the events that formed me that I had not embraced because I had forgotten.

When I pushed aside the pain of those New Glasgow years, I began to forget the laughter, fun and love that I also experienced in that place. One was as real as the other, unfortunately, one I could remember all too well and the other had been lost.

It soon became clear to me that it was time to take back that which had been stolen from me, to "face the demons" so to speak and to embrace all of the wonder and good of those adolescent years.

I knew I HAD to go back.

It became crystal clear to me that if I was to reach this new level of wholeness in my life, it would require facing the fears that held me today as if I was that young girl of so many years ago.

God used face book and my reconnection of a couple of friends in particular to bring about a desire and a need to visit this place I was beginning to think of as home.

It is a very good thing that He knit my heart with theirs because there was a battle yet to be faced and won in order for me to make this journey.

Marvelous Monkey Bread

Since I promised this recipe ages ago....I figured I'd better come good on my word.

This recipe comes with warnings...gazing at the photos for more than 45 seconds or simply reading through the recipe may cause unexpected weight gain. Mind you, if there is ever a recipe worth every single sinful calorie...this has got to be it. Do your taste-buds a favor and make this...just once...when hungry, skinny children or teens are around. Beware though, once will lead those hungry, skinny kids to beg for

more.

In Belleville, we have a wonderful store that sells a multitude of yummy baked goods and frozen foods....at wonderful prices too. This bag originally held three of these loaves of bread dough.

Use any frozen or fresh white bread dough...frozen buns (if you can find them), would involve less cutting.

I usually use 1 1/2 loaves per pan...and usually do it for sleepover parties, so I make 2 pans of Monkey Bread with this pkg.

Partially thaw the dough and cut into 1/2" cubes...approx.

(If you end up completely thawing the dough, just tear it off in small pieces and roll in to ballish type shapes~~any little helping hands are great to put to work on this task)

For each pan you will need approx. 1 c. white sugar and ....maybe 4 Tlbs. of Cinnamon.

(it's an art not a science...so add the cinnamon until

it looks right)

Since Michael is my child who begs for Monkey Bread the most, these are his hands cutting and mixing the dough.

After all the dough is coated, shake off excess sugar mixture and toss evenly in a greased bunt or angel food pan.

Just breathe through the next part, follow the directions and trust me.

Melt 1 cup of butter per pan of monkey bread..

Add 1/2 cup of brown sugar, (yes that measuring cup does say 1 c.~ I was doubling the recipe here)

Stir over med. heat until the butter and brown sugar become one.

Then pour evenly over the balls of dough.

Hey...don't say I didn't warn you.

Bake in preheated, 350* oven for 30-35 minutes.

Invert on large plate and serve warm.

After one bite, I guarantee you won't know whether to love or hate me.

Yes, they are that good.

A Summer of Change, Growing Pains and Parental Pride

Summer and it's long hot lazy days has set in, only for me this year it has been missing the lazy part. It is the first summer in 18 years that I have worked outside the home which in itself has brought about much change. Mind you, for a first summer working I am pretty spoiled: 4 day work weeks and 4 weeks holidays (starting Thursday eve!).

It is a Summer of change for the Piers Family.

We experienced so much parental Pride as we witnessed both of our boys' graduations...one into High School and one into University. Both with Honors, both receiving awards for the Characteristics we value most: Kindness, respect, leadership, helpfulness.

One Valedictorian and one runner up. For 2 boys with very different personalities...the similarities are uncanny.

Both boys celebrate Birthdays this month and I am forced once again to face that my children are no longer babies that I can safely hover over and protect. They are quickly growing up, making choices, moving forward....and I may have to break into a run to catch up.

My heart is stretched as we navigate these uncharted waters, Jonathan leaves home for University in a few short weeks...in New Brunswick.

How is it as a mom, you can be bursting with pride and be so absolutely ecstatic that your child is going after and obtaining all of their dreams...and completely broken hearted because you will miss them so darn much?

My heart has never been so confused as it has this summer...the highs and lows of parenting all in one moment.

The social calendar of all of the kids has picked up dramatically this summer as well. Along with Jonathan working full time hours, he is acting in a film, (Muscle) being produced by local friends for the Toronto Film Festival. Michael and his multitude of friends coming and going, Maria and Jianna going to movies and swim dates with all their little girlfriends. Mark and I actually found ourselves home alone for a few hours last night. I believe that too is a first for us.

I believe as I look back on this summer, it will always stand out as significant. So much change, so much growth and it is not all in my children. Yes their changes are forcing me to grow up just a little bit more but I am also getting to reconnect with some friends of my youth. Friends I have had no contact with in over 20 years, friends with which God is creating some very significant heart ties. For the first time since I left for good at 19...I am going home.

Even thinking of the town of my youth as "home" is significant...it had remained in my memories a place of heartache, tears and trauma. God is redeeming those memories of the past for all of the laughter, prayers and fun that I shared with these friends. I am also believing for some incredible new memories as I set aside my fears and journey to my beloved ocean and the place I once called home.

In all of the change and growth...joys and heartache of this summer, I vividly see the hand of God and His absolute faithfulness to my family and myself.

I truly am in awe once again.

Happy Summer to all, may it be a significant summer for each of you as well.

Strawberry Shortcake - A La Jen

This Blog post is dedicated to Sweet Amy who forced me to lay aside my laxidazial cooking style long enough to actually remember and write down the "recipe" for my newest cake creation.

Of course I was "Flying by the seat of

my pants" on this one, adding and mixing ingredients at whim....therefore, I make no promises that this is EXACTLY what I did.

Then again, none of you tasted the original...(unless I work with you and did not know you were following my Blog)...the rest of you will never know the differences should there be any.

Amy, the future guests of my "One

Day Tea House" may very well need to thank you for forcing me to follow the conventions of baking and document this really yummy cake.

Enjoy...and Happy Canada Day Amy (and guests)!

Cake

1 white cake mix

1 tsp B. Powder

1 tsp Pure vanilla

1/2 tsp butter flavoring.

3 eggs

1 1/4 C. water

1/3 C. veg. oil

Add the B. powder to the dry cake mix and stir. Add the rest of the ingred. and mix according to pkg.

Cook in 2- 8" or 9" round pans as directed on pkg.

White Mousse

1 cup white chocolate
1/4 cup water
2/3 cup sugar
1 cup whipping cream1 tsp vanilla

Heat water in saucepan, with sugar, until sugar is dissolved. Add chocolate and melt until smooth. Set saucepan in cold water to cool mixture. Place in the fridge until thoroughly chilled. Whisk smooth. Beat cream and vanilla until stiff peaks form. Fold into cold chocolate mixture. Refrigerate until set.

Whipping Cream

Pour 500 ml. of whipping cream into bowl and begin mixing on low speed. Slowly increase speed as Cream begins to thicken. When soft peaks form add 1 tsp vanilla and 1/4C. icing sugar. (icing sugar is fine so incorporates more thoroughly, it also contains corn starch which helps stabilize the whipped cream).

Continue beating until very stiff peaks form. Watch carefully, you want it as stiff as possible without the cream starting to separate. Scrape down the bowl periodically. If you are unsure about the consistency stop the mixer and give it a stir. Always better to check it often than to over mix....unless you want sweet butter of course!

To Assemble

Place one layer of cake on serving plate. Arrange thinly sliced berries over the entire surface. Cover with White Mousse. Gently add second cake layer. Frost the entire cake with whipped cream smoothing the sides as much as possible. Arrange sliced strawberries (points out) in a circular pattern beginning about 1" from edge of cake. Fill top of cakes with over lapping circles of Strawberries.

Add a few more TLBS icing sugar to remaining whipped cream. Stir in and use piping bag and star tip to pipe borders around top and bottom edge of cake.

Arrange thin slices of Strawberries around sides of cake.

Store in refrigerator.

I Love this Kid!

This weekend I have been on Chauffeur Duty.

(That in itself is a whole other blog post...

One I am fighting with myself daily NOT to write.

I think I will give you a hint though...

'cause hints are not the same as telling

and no one will bother to click the link to find out what I am babbling about anyway....)

Now, if you know me, you know I really am not a morning person.

I am on the other hand, a mom of a working teen.

A working teen without a vehicle, in fact, as a family of 6 we function with 1 vehicle.

Why spend money on a second one when we all live, work and play within a fairly small radius?

Why?

So I can have my own cute little sporty car! That's why!

(that is always my answer...but not yet)

So, My Jonny had to be to work yesterday and today for 6:30 a.m which meant I had to be up at 5:45...A.M!

The bonus yesterday, was I picked up a tea after dropping my son off, went down by the Bay in the middle of the rain, thunder and lightening and got to experience the awesomeness of God's majesty.

I went to bed early to prepare for my second unearthly morning drop off but when the alarm went...I simply could not do it. I sent Jon with the vehicle and went back to sleep...and did I ever sleep.

When I did wake up, there was a note on my floor that had been pushed under my door.

It was a mystery to me as to who could possibly have written that note. I mean, it's not signed and I am referred to as "Jen"...must have been Mark.

I also loved the part about not waking up until I was told....ummmm, too late.

Ah, a clue! I do have a child who refers to "getting up" as "Waking Up"...I wonder if that is who it could be?

The mystery was soon solved as I was presented with Fluffy scrambled eggs with Cheddar grated on top and a steaming cup of Red Rose.

As I thanked my youngest child and told her she was the best little girl in the whole world, she responded with....

"I know"

Oh Boy....here we go again! Look out Jonathan/"Sheldon"...(Big Bang reference), there's another one coming up on your heels!

Tea Cup Gardening

Every once and a while, on a whim...a well intentioned, thought out whim....I decide to try my hand at gardening. All my friends tote the glorious, uplifting, grounding, self satisfaction of gardening.

All of them...except maybe "Sweet Pammy".

I, on the other hand...was born a princess...my family may not have realized it, my surroundings may not have reflected it...but make no mistake. I was born to be pampered, to shop, to enjoy the finer things in life. It's who God created me to be...what's a girl to do?

In all truth...I am allergic to dirt and all things "gardeningy". No, you have no idea!

All windows must remain closed all Spring, planting of 10 sunflower seeds last year sent me to bed with Benadryl...then there is this teensy weensy phobia of worms...

I'm lying...I can not STAND worms...they send me screaming under the covers. (It's my brother's fault...he and some other young boys chased me with worms as a child...then, I had nightmares...now, I am a wuss).

This year was different though...I have thoroughly enjoyed the great outdoors of Spring and have not paid with 14 hours of drug induced sleep for having indulged in this wondrous time of year. I am thrilled and very, very thankful. (I am listening to the sweetly singing birds and feeling the gentle breeze of Spring through my open window even now as I type...Truly a Miracle!)

My new found out door freedom, coupled with my family's love for what we call "Fresh salsa", (in reality it is Pico De Galla), adding in the idea that I might actually be missing out on some soul soothing rituals...I decided to plant a Salsa Garden.

Since I have not yet been miraculously delivered from the whole worm-nightmare-thing...I decided planter gardening was the perfect fit for me. That and the fact that weeding is a chore not fit for a princess.

I did some homework, I'm an intelligent princess after all...with a love for fine cooking, fresh food and the need to be creative. This can't be that hard right? EVERYONE posts these beautiful pictures of their lush, fruitful gardens...EVERYONE, (except Sweet Pammy), goes on and on about how wonderful it is to be one with the dirt. The absolute joys of sowing, watering, weeding and harvesting.

I WANT TO ENJOY BEING ONE WITH THE DIRT....but in a more refined sort of oneness.

I bought herbs...(seeds are still for the wonder women of gardeners), Tomatoes and Peppers and because I had been so proudly talking of my plans at work...my boss bought me a lovely little bush of Cilantro.

Ahhh...Cilantro, the miracle herb that pulls the whole Salsa/Pico together...Yummy Cilantro.

I am not simply a summer-on-a-whim-cook, I am a serious year round cook who loves using fresh herbs....fresh herbs that are so very expensive to buy and then rot because you can't use them all up in a timely fashion.

My solution: An INDOOR herb garden to enjoy year round. Simple! I have everything I need except the artsy-Jen part: a wonderful planter.

Last weekend I found it.

Actually I liked it so much, I bought two!

Bold, Bright, Beautiful T-Cup planters....the color contrasts made me so happy I just KNEW my herbs would feel happy and thrive too.

Last Sunday, I rolled up my sleeves, recruited my youngest child and got busy. We planted our Rosemary in a large planter outside as I am told it likes to grow quite tall and full...(mmmmm, Pioneer Woman Rosemary Buns). We planted my 2 VERY Happy T-Cups. One with Chives the other with that lovely Cilantro. We even went a little crazy and planted Sun Flowers. I LOVE Big Happy Sunflowers!.

Though my nails and the dirt were definitely one, I wasn't yet feeling the Love but as I scrubbed the dirt and positioned those wonderful T Cups on my sunny plant shelf in my kitchen...I had visions of amazing dishes made all that much more amazing by these delicious herbs lovingly tended by my own 2 hands...I was beaming.

My dear Gardening Guru Friend Holly wanted to see pictures of these Happy, happy

T cups...thus, this Blog Post.

Are they Not Absolutely Wonderful!?!?!

My Fairly Happy Chives...

(made our scrambled eggs taste incredible!)

T-Cups for 2!

...and...my not very happy looking Cilantro.

Seriously! They were lovely and green and firm a few short days ago...

...Until my Black thumb touched them.

Limp, Pale very SAD looking Cilantro.

HOW am I supposed to make yummy fresh Salsa with pale, limp Cilantro?

My Gardening dreams are dashed yet again...is there any hope?

Help!